The Last Chronicle of Barset eBook

After that there was a pause, and Mr Toogood pushed
about the old port, and made some very stinging remark
as to the claret-drinking propensities of the age.
‘Gladstone claret the most of it is, I fancy,’
said Mr Toogood. ’I find that port wine
which my father bought in the wood five-and-twenty
years ago is good enough for me.’ Mr Walker
said that it was quite good enough for him, almost
too good, and that he thought that he had had enough
of it. The host threatened another bottle, and
was up to draw the cork—­rather to the satisfaction
of John Eames, who liked his uncle’s port—­but
Mr Walker stopped him. ’Not a drop more
for me,’ he said. ‘You are quite sure?’
‘Quite sure.’ And Mr Walker moved
towards the door.

‘It’s a great pity, Mr Walker,’
said Toogood, going back to that old subject, ‘that
the dean and his wife should be away.’

‘I understand that they both will be home before
the trial,’ said Mr Walker.

’Yes—­but you know how very important
it is to learn beforehand exactly what your witnesses
can prove and what they can’t prove. And
moreover, though neither the dean nor his wife might
perhaps be able to tell us anything themselves, they
might help to put us on the proper scent. I think
I’ll send somebody after them. I think I
will.’

‘It would be a heavy expense, Mr Toogood.’

‘Yes,’ said Toogood mournfully, thinking
of his twelve children; ’it would be a heavy
expense. But I never like to stick at a thing
when it ought to be done. I think I shall send
a fellow after them.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Johnny.

‘How can you go?’

‘I’ll make old Snuffle give me leave.’

‘But will that lessen the expense?’ said
Mr Walker.

‘Well, yes, I think it will,’ said John,
modestly.

‘My nephew is a rich man, Mr Walker,’
said Mr Toogood.

‘That alters the case,’ said Mr Walker.
And thus, before they left the dining-room, it was
settled that John Eames should be taught his lesson
and should seek both Mrs Arabin and Dr Arabin on their
travels.

CHAPTER XLI

GRACE CRAWLEY AT HOME

On the morning after his return from London, Mr Crawley
showed symptoms of great fatigue, and his wife implored
him to remain in bed. But this he would not do.
He would get up, and go out down to the brickfields.
He has specially bound himself, he said, to see that
the duties of the parish should not suffer by being
left in his hands. The bishop had endeavoured
to place them in other hands, but he had persisted
in retaining them. As had done so he could allow
no weariness of his own to interfere—­and
especially no weariness induced by labours undertaken
on his own behalf. The day in the week had come
round on which it was his wont to visit the brickmakers,
and he would visit them. So he dragged himself
out of his bed and went forth amidst the cold storm